


Putting Things In Their Place

by Westgate (Harkpad)



Series: Preparation and Follow Through [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BAMF!Clint, Good guy Sitwell, Graphic Violence, M/M, Rescue Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 14:02:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3070826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harkpad/pseuds/Westgate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Readiness" - Phil's been taken prisoner by Hydra. Fury lets Clint test a new tac suit and sends him off with Jasper to get Phil back. This is really just Clint going through a Hydra complex and punishing them ruthlessly for taking Phil from him. No one messes with Phil on Clint's watch. (Completely ignores any possibility that Sitwell might be Hydra because fanfic.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Putting Things In Their Place

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to shazrolane for beta help on this one!

 

Blood dripped into Clint’s eye as he slipped into the thick bushes beside the towering smooth, stone walls of a HYDRA complex. He reached into the pocket on his left thigh and pulled out a small pressure bandage and pressed it to his forehead. He ignored the sting and looked up at the fortress wall. Hydra complexes were tricky, but he had a time frame and Phil was waiting for him inside.

Phil, taken three days ago by a Hydra agent his team in southern Italy didn’t see coming. Phil, who had assured Clint he’d be back to base in time for their weekly joint counseling appointment that had been a standing appointment for two years – one of many ways Phil helped him. But he wasn’t back, and Clint was the only one who could go get him. Rescues like this were always just two man teams, and this time it had to be Clint and Jasper.

_“You have to scale a sheer wall,” Jasper had said, leaning over the small metal table bolted to the floor of the plane. They were flying to a remote area of Molise, Italy, and spent the whole trip working out a plan. It was just the two of them, with a medical backup team standing by in Campobasso in case they needed it. “Once you get past the team of perimeter guards, which I’ll help you with, you have to get to the north wall of the compound and scale it. Once we get past the guards, you’ll only have about three minutes to get in before the bug I’ll put in their system will time out and they can track you as easy as a bear in a cornfield.”_

_“A bear in a – never mind,” Clint replied. He loved Jasper like an annoying little brother, but sometimes his patience wore thin. Right now he was trying to figure out their plan while he simultaneously willed the plane to fly faster to get to Phil. “Okay. How are we getting past the guards without triggering the system?”_

_Jasper pointed to a black rectangle sitting on the floor. “I’ve got enough C4 in that box to cause a ruckus, and engineering found a weak spot in the cliff nearby. When it blows, I’m standing by to sneak into the guard command station and slip the bug into their security network. It’ll disarm the wall sensors for three minutes, look like a hacker attempt, and you can get in while I get to the west side of the complex for our extraction plan.” He held out a comm unit and added, “I’ll be monitoring you as we go.” Clint nodded and listened carefully as Jasper outlined the rest of the plan._

Clint reached into his right thigh pocket and pulled out a pair of special gloves from R&D, and a pair of overshoes that fit snugly on his feet. They both had climbing spikes that would hold his weight as he scaled the wall. He took a deep breath, and started to climb.

_“Once you get over the wall we have eleven minutes to figure out where Phil’s being kept and get him out,” Jasper said. He handed Clint a packet of pressure bandages and held on a little as Clint tried to take it from him. Clint met his gaze. “Eleven minutes, Clint,” he said, and Clint swallowed and nodded._

_Jasper was dragging out Clint’s first name on a mission because this wasn’t just any mission for either of them. Phil was one of Jasper’s best friends. Phil and Clint drove Jasper to Florida for his father’s funeral when Jasper was banged up from a mission. Jasper was the second person Phil told when Clint asked him to marry him, and only because Nick had been there for the proposal. Jasper held Clint’s insides in when a mission went fubar last year and wouldn’t leave medical until Clint was off the breathing tube and lucid, even when that meant sleeping in blood-stained clothes in a plastic chair on and off for three days, right next to Phil._

_“Eleven minutes once I’m over the wall,” Clint repeated._

_Jasper nodded. “By the time you’re over the wall I should have a lock on Phil’s position from the hack I do at the watchtower box. If not, you’ll have to follow the schematic we think is accurate to get to the prison block and wing it. I’m 88% sure I can get the lock, though. I should have their cameras as well, which will give us an advantage. But eleven minutes is all we’ll have. The system they use has a notification alarm we can’t bypass when we hack in. Okay?”_

_Clint nodded and looked back at the schematic to memorize it some more._

He reached the top of the wall, climbed over, and made the climb down to the compound floor in double time. He stripped the gloves and overshoes off and put them back in his pockets, spikes closed and safe. “We’re in,” Jasper whispered in his ear. “First hallway to your left, then two rights and three lefts. You’ll have four guards to get through at the first intersection, which will, most likely, trigger more.”

Clint pulled his knife from his sleeve and weighed it in his hand. It felt ready to work. “Permissions, sir?” he whispered to Jasper. It was a formality, but Clint knew what he was about to do. He needed the formality to get his mind into the right place for this.

“Blanket permissions, agent,” Jasper replied, business-like. “All clearances to acquire target.”

Target. Prisoner. Phil. Clint had seen what happened to targets who were prisoners of Hydra before. The last rescue mission he’d worked it had been Phil in his ear guiding him through the halls. What he found when he got to the cell had provided their joint therapy session material for a month. That’s not what he was going to find here. It couldn’t be.

Clint nodded and crouched down. He looked at the hallway, thought of Phil in a cell for two days, and felt rage seep back into his bones now that they were in and Clint’s clearance was official. It was time to get Phi back from these bastards. Phil, who was the polestar of Clint’s life now, who was his touchstone and center, Clint _had_ to get him back.

So he moved. He was silent as he crept down the hallway, low to the ground and watchful. He saw the first guard and slipped up behind him unnoticed until he was drawing his knife across the man’s neck. He dropped like a brick and Clint stepped over him, wiped his knife clean, and counted in his head, knowing follow-ups were coming. At the count of six the next guard turned the corner to look for his coworker. Clint’s had drawn his bow and nocked an arrow, and it flew true, and crunched into the man’s windpipe, dropping him to the floor. Clint pulled the knife and moved on.

By that time the other two were on alert, and Clint ducked and rolled as they both pulled their guns. He came up with an arrow nocked and dropped them both at the end of his roll. The hallway was strangely silent. Clint made the first turn, and then the second. He had eight minutes now to find Phil. Two more guards appeared at the next turn, their red and black uniforms rippling as they drew their weapons. Clint dropped one, but the other got a bead at the same time and he felt a bullet slam into his shoulder.

It was a test of his new body armor Nick had trusted to test on Clint. It didn’t keep him from tumbling against the wall with the impact, nor did it stop the red-hot pain from blossoming across his collarbone, but it did stop the bullet, and he was up again in the span of two breaths.

The guard was in reach now, coming to see what damage he’d done, and Clint exploded upward and slammed his head into the man’s chin. He staggered, and Clint rammed his shoulder into his stomach before the guy got a blow in to Clint’s temple. It wasn’t enough to stop Clint’s hand that held an arrow, and he felt the tip sink into the guard’s stomach and heard the man’s surprised ‘unf’ as he slipped down the wall and dropped his own weapon. Clint blinked hard twice, finished him off, and moved on.

He made the first left and was coming up on the second when two guards rounded the corner. Clint was waiting. This time neither guard got a shot off and they were both bleeding out on the ground in five seconds flat. Clint stepped over them and headed down the last hallway. “I’m in,” he said. His breath was even and clear, like he could do this all day. “Where to now?”

“Third door on the left in the last hallway. Keypad entry. I’m triggering it in three, two, one, now” Jasper said. His voice was calm, like he was reading the information from a report.

Clint found the door, watched the light click green, and shoved his way in. He wasn’t expecting the two guards on the inside. One had a knife and tried to get to Clint’s throat, but the new armor protected his neck and he twisted his body to get under it. He thrust his own knife out and found the guy’s side, but the other guard figured out the armor problem and bypassed it completely. He clubbed Clint across the back of the head and his knees buckled. The guy was on top of him as his partner kicked Clint’s knife from his hand, and he got Clint in a choke hold and squeezed. Clint gasped, and as he wrestled for control, he saw Phil across the room.

He was chained to the wall, his arms high above him, and he was on his knees in nothing but boxer shorts. He raised his head as Clint struggled, and Clint saw blood caked across his whitewash pale face and down his neck. His stomach was black and blue, there was blood seeping between his right ribs, and he was staring at Clint with glassy blue eyes.

Clint grunted and pushed himself up, twisted in the guard’s arms and jammed his fingers in the guy’s eyes before getting his pistol into the guy’s stomach and pulling the trigger. His partner got a shot off at the same time, and Clint felt the bullet find the crease between the neck guard and Clint’s left shoulder plate as the guy he was fighting fell to the floor. The R&D team at SHIELD was really, really good, though, and even a crease in the armor plates was better than no armor at all. Clint felt the bullet dig between the plates and pierce his skin since they were at such close range, and pain washed across his chest as it lodged against into his flesh, right under his collar bone, but it had slowed, and it didn’t get very far into him.

He yelled and whipped his pistol across the guard’s face, making him drop to his knees, and he shot him between the eyes. He ignored the body thumping to the floor, ignored the fire in his own chest from the bullet, and moved to Phil. He pulled a tool from the pocket on his right calf and pointed it at the chain holding Phil. It cut through it like butter and Phil crumpled to the floor.

Any pain Clint was feeling vanished as he sank to his knees and rolled Phil over. He pressed his fingers to Phil’s neck and felt the too-fast pulse, checked his eyes and saw that he clearly had a concussion, and heat was rolling off him in waves.

“Clint?” Phil whispered hoarsely, and squinted up at him.

“I’ve got you, okay?” Clint answered, and he pulled Phil’s shirt up to get a look at where the blood was coming from. There was a gash on his ribs, and it was red and seeping. Clint swallowed as he saw the bone, and he pulled another pressure pack from his pants pocket and applied it carefully.

“Hawkeye, you have to get out of there. Base has been notified of your presence and a team of ten is headed your way,” Jasper cut in. “Down the hall, a right and two lefts will take you to the west exit. It’s closest to where you are.”

Clint took a deep breath. They were in a Hydra base and Phil was in no condition to fight. He heard Nick’s words echo in his mind: _“You’re going to bring him home. You’re going to listen to Jasper and you’re going to be creative and ruthless and bring him home.”_

He could do ruthless. Jasper could help with the creative bit, and he would bring Phil home. Clint’s world wouldn’t work without Phil in it anymore. It was the brutal truth and it was driving Clint now.

“Okay,” he said, and he crouched next to Phil and pulled his chin up to get another look. “Phil. We’re getting the fuck out of here. Come on.” He pulled Phil to his feet and sucked in a sharp breath as the bullet lodged under his collarbone burned like white flame in his skin. Phil leaned against him heavily, and put his head on Clint’s shoulder.

“They’ve been shooting me up with truth serum, Clint. I’m so damned tired. I can’t fucking think,” Phil said, and Clint felt the weight of his body burning against his side.

He threw an arm under Phil’s shoulder and pulled him over to the entrance to the cell before he gently put him on the ground again. “Wait here,” he whispered into Phil’s flush cheek. He stood and ducked around the corner, this time pulling his bow from his back.

He crept forward and nocked an arrow.

The first guard got an arrow to the throat, the next took one to the eye, and the third took one to the other eye. Clint counted to three before snapping his bow onto his back again and returning to Phil. Phil had his head back against the wall, his eyes clenched shut, and he was taking short, shallow breaths.

“Phil, here we go,” Clint said, and he pulled him into his arms. Phil’s knees buckled against him. “Fuck,” Clint muttered, but he wasted no time in bending over and pulling Phil over his shoulder. Phil protested weakly, but Clint snapped, “We’ve gotta move,” and took him out to the hallway. He stepped over the three guards and leaned around the next corner.

A knife caught him across his right cheek as he drew back with a hiss. Without dropping Phil, he stepped around the corner and ducked and brought his gun up, firing in one smooth motion. The guy dropped, and the next one threw a knife, but the new gear lived up to its reputation and the thing practically bounced off of Clint’s chest plate. That guard got a bullet to the chest and he dropped, too. Phil’s weight, the hits, the blood on Clint’s cheek, it all faded away as more guards turned the corner to the hallway they were in.

Clint shucked Phil from his shoulders, drew his gun and aimed in the space of two breaths, and a bullet flew before the guard rounding the corner could draw his gun. Clint’s vision narrowed to the corner in front of him, and four shots later the way was clear again. He threw Phil back over his shoulder and moved.

The exit was a keypad and five guards stood crouched with their guns drawn when Clint paused to peek around the corner. A gunshot took part of the wall out and Clint ducked back as debris dusted his hair. He set Phil down again – Phil whose breaths were still shallow and who was biting his lip with pain and making it bleed. Clint ignored the flare of worry and drew his bow, along with two arrows.

He threw a silent prayer to the developers in R&D and stepped around the corner and shot the two arrows at once, and as gunshots rang in the stone room, two guards fell over backwards. Clint was thrown back against the wall as the shots hit his chest, and his head hit stone behind him. He felt two ribs crack at the least, and he snarled at the pain exploding in his head, but he drew two more arrows. Even with his chest on fire and nausea pooling in his stomach, he fired and took two more guards.

He knew these guys weren’t stupid, though, and so he dropped into a roll as a bullet hit the wall where his head had been. This time he drew his knife from its sheath and hurled it as he came out of the roll. The fifth guard’s mouth formed an ‘o’ of surprise as the knife buried itself in his neck, and he fell, too.

“Jasper, the keypad to the exit,” he growled as he stumbled back to Phil. “Now.”

He groaned as he pulled Phil up, and he just ducked under his arm and dragged him, but Jasper was good, and the door was open, and they made it to the cool night air as the door ‘wooshed’ shut behind him. He felt like his body from his neck to his waist was being stabbed with hot irons, but he sucked in jagged breaths and carted Phil forward. They were close.

_“I’ll have a jeep waiting half a mile down the road from the base. They’ve been thinning their troops lately and I have a route that will get me there undetected.”_

Jasper was waiting. Clint knew it. He trusted it. He held onto the image of the jeep and his friend ready to take them to help as he trudged down the road. When Phil coughed out “Clint, three at your six!” he didn’t even stop; he just dropped Phil to the ground, crouched in front of him, and fired three times. They managed a shot, but it went wide, and they were down.

What Phil didn’t see was the one guy in the bushes, who must’ve figured out Clint’s advantage against gunshots and threw himself at Clint from the side. He was dragged roughly to the ground. His body was vibrating with pain, and he saw the gun as the guard pressed it to his head, but he could see Phil out of the corner of his eye and he could hear Nick’s voice again: _“You’re going to bring him home,”_ so he twisted against the pain and jammed his gun against the guard’s chest and fired first. Blood sprayed into his face and he fell backwards to the ground as he heard the thud of the body fall next to him.

Blood roared in his ears and he slowed his breathing enough to feel like his heart might not leap out of his chest in protest. Phil called out to him, and his voice sounded a little stronger. Clint rolled over and pressed his palms to the dirt beneath him and pushed himself up one more time. “Gotta keep moving,” he said, and the gravel crunched beneath his boots as he pulled Phil up again.

“Clint,” Phil said, and his voice was too light, too airy. It wasn’t the voice in his ear Clint had built his life on. He pressed forward down the road harder. He couldn’t help the way his body was reminding him of every hit he’d taken in the last hour, and the road was wavering in his eyes. He had to keep moving. He stumbled twice, but he kept putting one foot in front of the other and holding Phil tightly across his shoulder. Jasper was waiting.

When the jeep came into sight, Clint had to hold his breath for a second to keep from collapsing in relief. Jasper ran up to them, skidding to a halt and reaching for Phil. His arm stopped halfway as he saw Clint up close, and he paled.

“Fuck,” Jasper muttered, and reached for Phil again. “I’ve got him, Clint,” he said, and he took all of Phil’s weight. Clint stumbled for real this time, going to his knees.

“Phil!” he called out, because even though some part of his brain knew Jasper was taking him to help, the other part of his brain just saw Phil being taken away. He tried to scramble to his feet, but his legs weren’t working, and the ground was tipping away from him like he was in the funhouse back at the circus. He fell sideways, landing on his back and staring at the night sky. The stars wouldn’t stay still, and the pine trees were spinning against the black backdrop, and there was a rush of static in his ears as he gulped for air. He lost time as he breathed deeply, trying not to puke as his stomach rolled. “Phil,” he whispered.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jasper said as he leaned over Clint. “Gotta get you guys outta here, Clint. Come on, help me out, buddy. Just a little further.” He pulled Clint by the shoulders and the bullet still in the tac suit crease raked fire down Clint’s arms. He groaned, but he tried to help Jasper and get to his knees. The nausea won this time, though, and Jasper stepped to the side as Clint puked until he couldn’t breathe, and then he gasped like a fish out of water as Jasper pulled him to his feet.

“God dammit, fucking Hydra,” Jasper grumbled as he dragged Clint to the jeep. Clint stumbled along with him, and was able to avoid falling face-first into the back seat of the vehicle. As Jasper gunned the engine and roared away toward the city, where the med team was waiting, Clint levered himself across the back seat and stared at Phil, who was leaning back in the front seat with his eyes clenched shut, still breathing way too shallowly.

He was breathing, though, and Clint was safe, so he let himself pass out as the stars rushed past overhead.

The monitors’ beeps woke Clint from a hazy dream about stone walls and manacles, and he opened his eyes slowly. He was sitting partway up in a hospital bed, and his right arm was strapped to his chest, completely immobilized. He had a mallet in his head, apparently, and his stomach felt like it might fall out of his body if he moved wrong. There was movement at the door, though, and he looked up to see Nick step into the room and move to his bedside.

He crossed his arms and glared at Clint. “I thought I told you to come back in one piece, asshole.”

Clint knew better than to shrug, so he just raised an eyebrow. “I came back with all the pieces, though. Jasper just had to hold ‘em together. How’s Phil?”

“Sleeping off the crap they pumped into him and letting antibiotics kill the infection from the knife wound. He’ll be okay.”

“Is Jasper okay?” Clint asked, closing his eyes. His body felt like it was weighed down with lead.

“He’s sleeping two feet from you in a plastic chair, and yeah. He’s okay. Clint,” Nick said, and Clint opened his eyes at the tone of his voice.

“Yeah, boss?” he answered, because it suddenly felt like they were on company time.

“You did what needed to be done to get Phil back. Jasper told me it was damned near impossible and no one else could’ve done what you did. I appreciate it more than you know, agent.”

Clint nodded and closed his eyes again. “They messed with Phil. They had it coming.”

Jasper woke up enough to mutter, “You are a scary motherfucker sometimes, Clint.”

“Sometimes we all are,” Nick said, patting Clint’s leg.

He left, and Clint fell back asleep with the knowledge that everyone he needed was back in the right place.

 


End file.
